When Saving the Universe is your Only Option
by randomtastic7
Summary: A KOTOR novelization featuring a misanthropic Gray/LSF Revan! Features the basics of the storyline with a few plot deviations and a lot more detail! Hopefully not your everyday novelization... Rated T for suggestiveness and violence.
1. Prologue and the Endar Spire

**Disclaimer: **In no way could I possibly own the awesomeness that is Star Wars, KOTOR, or anything vaguely related to them in any way. I simply write this to entertain myself and hopefully other fans of the game.

**A/N: **Hello everyone! I am new to this fandom as an author, though I have read many, many novelizations of KOTOR. From this experience, I am still fascinated by how different each person's Revan can be, and how they still manage to make a story everyone knows fresh and exciting. I am also going to be writing a novelization of KOTOR here, but hopefully with a noticeable personal touch, starting with a misanthropic Revan. I plan on writing a full novelization of both KOTOR and TSL, as well as a bridge between the two games and a "KOTOR 3"-like story, which is all in all a large project to undertake. However, I am really excited to do it, and so are my two awesome beta readers Yotam and Jonathan, who don't actually have accounts on here but are kind enough to read my work. Please note that "_**bold italics**_" means that the speaker is speaking in their native alien language, while _plain italics _means the subject's thoughts (unless it is just one word, in which case it's just an emphasized word). Also keep in mind that I have tried not to completely replicate dialogue from the game, but sort of paraphrased it and added some personal flair to keep the dialogue fresh and easy to read. Enough of this intro though, let's start the story!

* * *

><p><em><strong>Docking Bay 7A; Terminal 2; Coruscant <strong>_

The _Endar Spire _glimmered in the early morning sunshine, the sprawling city buzzing with the constant activity of a metropolis that spanned an entire planet. As columns of soldiers dressed in the standard gaudy orange, yellow, and black uniforms of the Republic Navy boarded the space vessel, a group of people stood off to the side of the boarding ramp. On closer inspection, the group was actually split into two smaller cliques. To the left was a cluster of robed individuals of a variety of races, each with at least one gleaming silver cylinder dangling on their belt. All of them had an expression of anxiety or worry on their faces, but one of them was especially so. She was dressed in a tight fitting tan body suit, and though she showed a constant air of confidence with her perfect twin pigtails, erect posture, and determined facial expressions, all of the Jedi could feel the agitation rolling off of their commander. The other group closer to the boarding ramp was also wearing the uniforms of the Republic Navy, but the badges, hats, and weapons they all carried easily distinguished them as the ranking officers of the ship. Their facial expressions were the complete opposite of their Jedi counterparts; irritated, angry, and frustrated. After a quick and hushed whispering session amongst themselves, one of the Republic officers stepped forward to address the Jedi.

"Excuse me, Master Jedi, but these are the last of the soldiers boarding the _Spire_. Shouldn't we be getting ready for departure now?" asked the slightly edgy and impatient Captain Carth Onasi. He also had brown hair, and it seemed like he had styled it so meticulously that a couple strands would airily hang down over his forehead. Coupled with his stubbly goatee, Carth seemed like he was trying very hard to live up to the humble war hero reputation that he was often labeled with.

The Jedi in the body suit, Padawan Bastila Shan, stepped forward to address the Captain. "I don't know if you remember _Captain_," started Bastila, emphasizing Carth's rank, "but _I _am the one in command of this ship and this mission. We leave when I order us to, and I do not want us to leave just yet," Bastila said in a high and mighty tone that reminded Carth why he hated working so close with Jedi for long periods of time.

"Yes, _Padawan _Shan, I know that you are the commander of this mission. But as your tactical _advisor_ for this mission, I _advise_ you to get the ship ready for launch. We can't sit around in the docking bay when we have this high-importance mission to carry out!" Carth attempted to reason. He actually didn't know why this mission was ranked with such a high importance, since it seemed pretty routine to him. Yet this ferrying of reconnaissance equipment to Yavin IV required four hundred soldiers, one hundred battle droids, two hundred crew, a _Hammerhead _class ship, and a Jedi entourage including one of the keys to the Republican war effort, Bastila Shan. When Carth had first seen his reassignment order, he had needed to be convinced by High Admiral Dodonna herself to see if it was a mistake. She had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was to follow the Jedis' orders to the letter, or else risk a reprimand. However, being a senior military officer, he was allowed to give educated advice to the Jedi. Carth didn't like it, but he was a soldier, and he followed his orders, even if it meant being the Jedis' lap dog for a couple of weeks on a routine mission.

"I know why this mission is classed with such high importance, Captain Onasi. And we cannot possibly execute this mission successfully without one of my civilian advisors accompanying us," Bastila stated matter-of-factly.

"And where exactly is this indispensable advisor then?" growled Carth.

A flicker of doubt flashed across the young Jedi's face before her usual blank yet haughty mask quickly covered it up. "She is running late is all. Once she arrives, I assure you, we will depart for Yavin. Until then, we shall wait here," brushed off Bastila, signaling the end of discussion. She turned her back on him and walked back towards her Jedi companions, quickly motioning them to have what looked like an intense discussion. Carth just frowned and turned back towards his comrades.

"Looks like we're just going to have to wait here until some advisor arrives," he informed the others.

"How good of an advisor can she be if she's already running late?" grouchily joked one of the lieutenants.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Hutt's Belly Cantina; Coruscant<strong>_

The Hutt's Belly Cantina was not one of the most honest establishments on Coruscant, but the food was edible and the drinks stayed down. The Hutt's Belly had a colorful clientele, ranging from members of the Exchange, Mandalorian mercenaries, swoop racers, debt ridden Pazaak players, smugglers, and your every day variety of Republic fugitives. Occasionally, a drifter or two would come and occupy a table, just like the one who was seated in the very far corner of the room. Along with all of the other remaining occupants of the room, the drifter was also slumped forward on the tabletop in an alcohol-induced sleep, the remains of a Tarisian ale in a glass near their face. The drifter was clad in a long, black, billowing cloak with the hood covering their face, tight black combat pants with a stripe of blood red down each leg, and sturdy black boots that went to their knee. The cantina was silent, save for the dripping of a mysterious brown liquid into the ash tray on the end of the bar.

Slowly, the front door creaked open, allowing a few rays of light to leak into the dank rat hole of a cantina before it shut abruptly again. A Rodian carrying a large sack and a dinged up blaster snuck inside, and promptly began to rifle through the pockets of the passed out cantina goers. Picking up a few credit stubs, stims, blasters, stun batons, and medpacs, the Rodian approached the still passed out drifter. As the greedy alien reached his hand out to rifle through the depths of the pockets of the heavy cloak, he found that he was staring at empty space, and with searing pain toppled to the ground. The drifter stood next to the headless body of the Rodian, carefully kicking his head away while avoiding getting blood on her boots. Shrugging wordlessly, the hooded murderer caught her appearance in the blood puddle. The drifter was in fact revealed to be a woman, as her hood had fallen back as she had darted awake and decapitated the would-be thief. Under her hood was a head of long, thick, wavy raven hair, the front few strands carefully tied back to keep out of her vision. Her skin was a creamy ivory, not sickly pale but not tanned either. But most stunning were her eyes. Though they were not big, her irises were a strikingly deep blue, as clear as the deepest oceans on Manaan. She had managed to quickly behead the Rodian in one clean blow with her vibrosword, even though she was actually a petite person.

Glancing around at her surroundings, the woman stared at her comlink. Not only did she have five missed calls, but it was already 8:42 in the morning. Eyes widening slightly, she reapplied her hood and carefully, almost as if she were polishing a prized antique, wiped her vibrosword on the Rodian's grungy clothes, making sure the blade was spotless. Taking one last sweeping look at the cantina she went back to her table and downed the rest of her ale. Grimacing slightly at the biting after taste, she grabbed another bottle from behind the bar. The bartender paid no notice; he too, was slumped in a puddle of what smelled like Corellian firewhiskey. Popping the lid open on the counter top, the woman took a large swig and ran out the door.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Docking Bay <strong>_

Carth paced impatiently in front of the gang plank of the _Spire_, frequently glancing at the group of Jedi still huddled together in their whispering conference. They were supposed to have left for Yavin an hour ago, and this advisor did not seem to be picking up her comlink. _Curse the Jedi and their unreliable advisors, _grumbled Carth. He didn't see how this one person could be so important to hold up an entire warship.

Just then, Bastila's head perked up from among the debating Jedi, her eyes straining to a point behind Carth. Carth couldn't see anyone or anything at first, but a few moments later he could make out a small dark figure approaching at a high speed. Instinctively, he raised his blaster at the incoming person.

"Stand down, Captain," ordered Bastila, as she stepped forward to receive the newcomer. He and the rest of the Republic officers lowered their weapons and warily eyed the cloaked figure. The rest of the Jedi, too, looked a little cautious at the sight of the newcomer, and kept their hands hovered slightly over their lightsabers. The unidentified figure lowered her hood, though the appearance of the raven haired woman did nothing to ease the Jedi's fear. In fact, it seemed that it may have made it worse for some of them.

"Keira Trinidad, civilian advisor assigned to the _Endar Spire_, at your service," drawled the cloaked woman.

Bastila clicked her tongue, clearly annoyed. "Miss Trinidad, would you please hurry on board with Captain Onasi? After he shows you to your quarters you are to report to me and explain why you are so inexcusably tardy," ordered the Jedi. "And do I smell alcohol on you?" she asked exasperatedly.

"Yes you do, Padawan Shan," shamelessly admitted Keira, proud of herself for remembering her commanding officer's name. "But don't worry, I'm perfectly sober. I'm not stupid enough to show up drunk for duty," she nonchalantly assured them.

Bastila sighed, and motioned for the Jedi to start boarding the ship. The Republic officers began to do the same when Carth protested.

"Padawan Shan, though I rank below you on the ship, I don't think it is respectful of you to assign me to play servant boy to this civilian advisor!" argued Carth.

"That civilian advis-"

"I'm a Class 1 passenger aboard this ship, _Captain_," interrupted Trinidad, who, like Bastila, emphasized Onasi's military rank, "and therefore warrant your _valuable_ time."

Carth gaped. This drunk, late, sketchy woman a Class 1 passenger? Class 1s were generally diplomats, planetary leaders, celebrities, or royalty, not random people that looked as if they had been just pulled from the street! Carth nodded his head, and inwardly decided that it was just another odd Jedi demand.

"Right this way, Ms. Trinidad," sighed Carth, as he led the newest addition to the _Spire_ aboard.

Bastila groaned as she watched the final crewmembers of the _Endar Spire_ board the ship. This was going to be one long mission.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Rec Room of the Endar Spire <strong>_

Carth took a deep breath before entering the most relaxed room of the _Endar Spire_. He had just come from another meeting with Bastila, and his patience was already fraying at the ends. Though they had been in hyperspace for only three days, those days seemed to be getting longer and longer. Carth admired Bastila for her courage of using her Battle Meditation to aid the Republic in their constant fight against the Sith, but these past few days had showed him how young and inexperienced she still was. Not only did she have no idea how to manage a shipload of soldiers, but her overall tactical knowledge of how battles should be fought, or in this case avoided, was glaringly minimal. They were lucky that they emerged from the previous skirmish with only twenty dead. Even worse, whenever he, or any of her other advisors for that matter, tried to suggest a less risky course, she vehemently refused and unwaveringly declared to them that 'the Force guided them this way.' However, Carth wasn't the worst treated of the advisors, and it was for this reason he had come to the rec room.

Seated off to the side of the Pazaak playing, rowdy soldiers, was the still cloaked civilian advisor Keira Trinidad. Carth noticed that she had discreetly placed herself away from the others so that while they didn't notice her sitting by herself, she could do whatever she pleased without being disturbed. Keira seemed to be grimacing to herself as she carefully scanned one of the many datapads stacked on her table. Beside the towering piles of datapads was an equally unstable stack of empty glasses. Carth sighed. He knew that this civilian advisor was being overworked, but he did not condone her use of alcohol to lighten her load. Carth snuck his way towards her table, or at least he thought he did, before she addressed him in her usual uncaring tone.

"Captain Onasi, how kind of you to join me," she said as she took another sip of her drink. "Please, take a seat," she gestured to the seat opposite of the piles of datapads and glasses. Carth took the seat and placed it next to the shady woman. They sat in silence for a few moments before Carth decided to break it.

"So, Ms. Trinidad, what exactly are you doing with all of these datapads?" he motioned to the wobbly stacks.

Keira took another sip of her drink. "I thought you might know, Captain Onasi, since you are the senior advisor on this ship," she exhaled slowly. "The oh-so-mighty Bastila Shan cannot seem to do her own translations, and neither can _any_ of the Jedi in her little posse. So she has assigned me to do all of these," lazily waving her hand at the datapads.

"You sound skeptical," hazarded Carth.

"You know as well as I that Jedi are naturally gifted with the skill of comprehending alien languages. They can supposedly use the Force or something to help them learn languages at incredibly fast rates. And I know some Jedi are better at it than others, but seriously, _none_ of them can speak Rodese? Haven't they ever been to a cantina?" asked Keira with frustration. She downed the last of her drink and added the glass to the rest of the stack.

"Judging from the amount you can down without getting tipsy, I'd guess that you have," joked Carth. "But seriously, I do share your doubts about the work they're making you do. It does seem a little menial and excessive. But it doesn't excuse you from drinking your weight in," he sniffed one of the glasses, "Corellian ale. I know you don't appear drunk, but it's not healthy!" urged Carth.

"Captain Onasi, would you rather me break into the stash of stims I have in my quarters?" asked Keira. Carth stayed silent for a few moments. He guessed that alcohol was better than stimulants, but he still resolved to talk to Bastila about her charge's substance abuse problems.

"That's what I thought," murmured Keira. As she moved to gather her things, Carth made one last ditch effort to persuade her to partake in some more normal behavior.

"Why don't you join some of the other men in a game of Pazaak? That may distract you just as much as any questionable substance might!" pleaded Carth. Carth hated to see people waste their lives on addictions. He had seen plenty of good men ruin their careers by showing up drunk or high on the job, and countless more lose their families after running up insurmountable debts after tours of Pazaak playing.

Keira laughed. "Oh, Captain Onasi, you are just so funny. I don't use 'questionable substances' to distract myself from the work I'm given, I use it to distract myself from them!" loftily waving her arm at the off-duty soldiers. She continued to chuckle to herself as she left the room with her datapads. In her wake sat a bewildered Carth and a multitude of empty glasses.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bridge; Endar Spire <strong>_

"With all due respect, Bastila," Carth had by now dropped the formalities with his naïve charge, "we should really reroute our course to avoid such a populated planet like Taris." All of the other Republic personnel exhaustedly agreed. It was nearing midnight and all of the higher-ups were getting tired.

"No, Captain, I think we should stay on our current course. Taking a detour will just slow us down, and as you said, this is a very important mission," haughtily replied Bastila. Though it was getting late, Bastila showed no signs of fatigue.

Carth sighed. "I know what I said earlier, but this is supposed help us avoid anything that might disrupt the mission!" Carth didn't know why the original route even went near such a populated planet like Taris. Sure, it wasn't the thriving metropolis it had been in its glory days, but it was still too busy for Carth's liking.

"Remember who is in charge here, Captain," reminded Bastila for what seemed like the _hundredth _time. Carth knew who was in charge here, otherwise he wouldn't be having such a massive headache.

"I know who is in charge, but the fact of the matter is- " Carth was cut off by the urgent voice of the deputy navigator on the bridge.

"Sirs," and taking a second look at Bastila, added "and Ma'am, we've been pulled out of hyperspace! We're caught in a tractor beam!" he announced frantically. His hands were flying across his keyboard. "It's, it's the _Leviathan_!"

Everyone on the bridge gasped. The _Leviathan_? Darth Malak's flagship was here? All of the officers who were previously discussing whether or not to change course ran to their stations to make sure they did not get caught by Darth Malak. As men started shouting frantic orders, and everyone went to battle stations, Bastila paled.

"This cannot be happening, not when there is such precious cargo on board," she whispered to herself.

Carth stepped forward to get a make sure the ship he was seeing in the viewport was actually real. The daunting profile of the _Leviathan_ slowly grew larger as it came closer, as did Carth's anger. _Finally, Saul, we meet again, _thought Carth. He gripped the handle of his blaster pistol until his knuckles looked like they would tear through the skin. As a passing soldier stepped on his foot, Carth realized that his first duty was to the crew members of the _Spire_, not for his own vendetta. _But he's so close, _mentally moaned Carth. Slowly releasing his grip, he started barking orders to scramble all of the soldiers. Seeing Bastila staring blankly into the distance he yelled to her.

"Bastila, start using your Force magic, or get out of the way!" he roared.

Snapping out of her reverie and running to an empty corner of the room, Bastila grabbed her comlink.

"Tell Jedi Pintino to prepare the rest for Malak and his boarding party, and to report to the bridge. Yes, you heard me, we are most likely going to be boarded by Malak's ship! Also, tell Ensign Ulgo to get her."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Keira Trinidad and Trask Ulgo's Quarters; Endar Spire<strong>_

As another blast shook the ship, Keira Trinidad fell out of her bunk. In a heartbeat she was back on her feet, taking in her surroundings. _Alright, I'm in my quarters… in my underwear. That must mean that I was sleeping, which means that I had reported to Miss Prissy with the Rodese translations about the blaster smuggling. _Keira grinned to herself. The look on Bastila's face had been priceless when she came in only three hours after having received the datapads to give a detailed report on a band of Rodian's plans to smuggle illegal high powered blasters to miners on Tatooine. No one, not even Bastila, had expected Keira to wade through that many recorded conversations in such a small amount of time. Suddenly, the door to her room burst open, and a tall, well-built, buzz cut blond dressed in a Republic uniform tumbled in, the door quickly clicking shut behind him.

Ignoring the fact that his bunkmate was in her underwear, Trask quickly brought Keira up to date on the situation. "We've been ambushed by a Sith Battle Fleet, including the _Leviathan_ herself! We need to report to the bridge immediately, and defend the _Spire_ at all costs!"

Keira, finally reoriented, was all business as well. "Sure, just as soon as I get some clothes on. Unless you want me to fight my way through swathes of Sith in my stylish underwear?" she asked sarcastically.

Trask sighed. "No, we have enough time for you to change, Miss Trinidad."

As she pulled on her clothes, customary cloak, and boots, Keira asked, "Wait, how do we know each other again?"

"Remember, the first day onboard when you were late? I was putting my stuff in here because I'm your _bunkmate_!" Trask reminded, annoyed.

"Oh yeah… Well give me a break, Trask, we work opposite shifts for crying out loud!" complained Keira.

"Come on, Miss Trinidad, we have to go and defend Bastila!" pushed Trask.

"Yeah, yeah, come on, she doesn't even have an official rank in the fleet," said Keira.

"Neither do you!" reminded Trask. "Anyway, you swore an oath just like everyone else on this ship to serve and protect the Republic, and that includes defending the commander of this mission! Now, even though you're a scout, I've heard from some of the other soldiers that you've been to more planets that I've never heard of that I can count! That must mean you have skills needed to protect Bastila and the ship!"

"Hold your horses, Trask," reprimanded Keira as she grabbed her trusty vibrosword. "I only said that Bastila didn't have an official rank in the Fleet, not that I wasn't going to do my job because I'm a scout. Let's go."

She clicked the switch on the door, but it didn't budge. Glaring at Trask, he blushed.

"Oh yeah, the ship is on lockdown because of boarding protocols. Don't worry though, I have the override codes!" he said meekly.

"You could have said that earlier," said a slightly annoyed Keira.

When the door finally opened, the sight that met Keira's eyes was one of pure chaos. Power conduits were overloaded, blown up droids strewn everywhere, and the bodies of Republic ensigns slumped on the sides of the corridors. In front of them, the remaining ensigns fought for their lives against a far greater number of gold-armored Sith.

"Crap, it must be the advanced boarding party," whispered Trask. "We have to help them!" Trask raised his blaster.

Inwardly, Keira face palmed herself. "No Trask, we have to get to the bridge-"

"FOR THE REPUBLIC!" screamed Trask, as he charged into the fray. Keira sighed. _So much for getting to the bridge quickly_. She looked up to see Trask struggling. _The idiot! He ran straight into a close range fight with only a blaster!_ Trask's prospects looked increasingly grim as the two remaining Republic ensigns fell to the ground. _I guess I should go and help him, _Keira reasoned. She drew her lethal vibrosword and jumped gracefully into the middle of the group of Sith. In a series of fluid movements, she cut off the arm of one Sith, slashed the throat of another, and ran through another with the tip of her sword. Straightening to see if her overzealous companion was okay, she absentmindedly stabbed the throat of the armless Sith, painfully ending his life.

Trask's eyes widened at the gory display. "Where did you learn how to fight like that?" he asked dazedly.

"We don't have time for explanations," quickly brushed off Keira. "Now make yourself useful and see if any of these dead people have anything useful left to give us," she ordered as she rifled through the pockets of the Sith she had just stabbed. Trask turned a shade of green.

"Are you serious? Shouldn't we just leave these poor souls to themselves?" he asked timidly.

"Well, you're clutching your side, and we don't have any medpacs to spare. So either you look to see if any of these dead guys have any medpacs for your wound, or we can head down the next hallway and hope there aren't any more Sith left to kill you. Your pick," offered Keira as she carelessly wrenched a blaster out of one of the dead Sith's hand. Trask grudgingly bent over and began to look for a medpac.

After successfully finding a medpac, and a couple of extra to spare, they moved on to the next section of the corridor. Seeing another group of Sith soldiers, Keira drew her blade. Turning to Trask she said, "Cover me from back here. Your blaster is of no use at close range."

Seeing Trask nod in assent, she rushed forward and continued to decapitate the Sith. A few more similar episodes and a lot of free equipment and credits later, the duo came up to the door to the bridge. Trask, with his usual lack of tactical consideration, immediately opened the door, revealing a trio of Sith standing amongst a large amount of dead Republic soldiers. Keira was pretty impressed that three Sith troopers could kill over ten Republic soldiers and come out relatively unscathed, and wondered if the Republic trained their soldiers enough before deploying them out to the field. Her thoughts turned to Trask. The Sith finally noticed the newcomers, and raised their weapons with bloodlust. Keira could have even sworn that she heard one giggle with anticipation. She threw a frag grenade into the group, not really expecting to kill any of them with it, but to disperse them so she could kill them easier. She smirked as the three Sith were scattered across the bridge.

"Trask, you keep them away from me with your blaster fire while I take them down one by one," ordered Keira authoritatively. Trask gulped nervously and nodded in assent. This was only his second combat mission, and his bunkmate seemed to know what she was doing.

Keira jumped at the first Sith, her sword meeting the other Sith's blade. Surprised that the trooper had enough reflexes to deadlock blades with her, Keira kicked the Sith squarely in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and possibly breaking a rib or two. Before the Sith could recover, she plunged her sword into his heart, dodging the blood that spurted out of him. She was lucky that she had moved, because a blaster bolt narrowly missed her head.

"TRASK!" yelled Keira, turning to reprimand her companion. Trask had nervously retreated towards the far entrance to the bridge where they had entered, feebly shooting at the two remaining Sith. Before he could respond, an intense pain rippled through the left side of Keira's stomach. Opening her mouth to curse, she instead coughed up a little blood. Turning back to see which unlucky Sith had impaled her, she cut off the wrist of the nearest Sith. With the vibroblade still lodged in her stomach, she placed a deep cut on the Sith's thigh. He fell to the ground screaming in agony, bleeding profusely. He desperately tried to drag himself away from the carnage, but after suffering a wave of convulsions, died. The last Sith was still shooting at her with a blaster rifle from near the other door of the bridge. Feeling too weak to make her way over there, she threw her blade with expert precision, leaving the Sith dead against the wall. After neutralizing all the threats, Keira pitched forward, breathing shallowly. Trask, coming out of his shock, ran over to his partner, frantic but too afraid to take any action.

"Trask," rasped Keira. "Pass me a medpac." He placed one in her outstretched hand. "Okay. When I tell you to, I need you to pull out this vibroblade from my stomach. Quickly though, it already hurts like a schutta. After you pull it out, I'll do the best I can with the medpac. But you're going to have to do a little more fighting now, since I'll be a little slower with my reactions," she instructed. Trask nodded. "Alright Trask, let's do this. One, two, THREE!" she grunted as the blade exited her body. Fumbling with the medpac, she amateurishly disinfected her wound, applied temporary stitches, and bandaged herself up tightly. Taking the arm that Trask offered, she pulled herself off the ground. Inhaling deeply she recomposed herself.

"Okay. Since I'm finding it a little hard to bend right now, Trask, you go and see if there's anything useful in these dead schutta's pockets."

As they were nearing the starboard section of the ship, they came across a door going in a different direction.

"There's something behind here!" Trask pointed at the other door. "They may be other Republic soldiers!" he said excitedly. Rushing forward to open the door, a tall, gray, bald, Dark Jedi dressed in black twirled his lightsaber. Trask waited for a second his eyes flitting from the wound on Keira's stomach to the Dark Jedi. Making his decision, Trask drew his sword from his belt.

"I'll hold him off while you get to the escape pods on the starboard section! FOR THE REPUBLIC!" declared Trask for the last time. Without another word he ran into the next room, sealing his fate.

"Trask!" yelled Keira in vain. She knew that she had told him that he would have to do more of his share of the fighting, but she hadn't meant it like this. Looking down, she went through the other door heading to the starboard section.

As soon as she had dispatched another trio of Sith soldiers, this time a little more slowly, her comlink beeped. She was actually slightly relieved to see the face on the other side.

"This is Captain Carth Onasi on your personal communicator. I've been tracking your progress using the _Endar Spire_'s life support system. Unfortunately, you're the last surviving crewmember on board besides me. Don't worry about Bastila, her escape pod is already away. There's only one escape pod left and I can't wait for you much longer! Be careful though, there's a whole platoon of Sith in the next room. I don't suggest fighting them all yourself, you should find another way! Good luck! Onasi, out."

Keira sighed. _Way to suggest some methods to getting rid of the Sith platoon, then, Captain._ She glanced around her surroundings, hoping to find something useful. There was a computer console and a broken droid at her disposal. Quickly hacking into the _Endar Spire_'s computer system, she overloaded the power conduit in the next room. However, the conduit was not ideally placed, and only a couple of the Sith soldiers died. _Great, now all of the rest of the soldiers will be on alert_, thought Keira. Her only option left was the droid. After repairing the droid, Keira still didn't like her odds. The blaster rifle it was equipped with was damaged, and its armor minimal. _This droid doesn't look too dangerous_, thought Keira. Suddenly, an idea popped into her mind. Placing a frag grenade into the chassis of the droid, she set the droid on patrol mode and hid behind some empty plasteel cylinders.

The droid walked in and was quickly picked apart by the Sith blaster fire. However, none of them were expecting the extra surprise the droid had inside, as it dented and/or impaled every surface in the next room, leaving the rest of the Sith troopers dead. As she opened the door to the escape pod room, Carth hurriedly greeted her.

"I heard the two blasts in the next room! What was the second one, by the way? One of them was the power conduit?" he asked.

"Yeah, but it didn't get all of them. Since I'm a little too injured to tend to the rest," she gestured to her stomach wound, "I turned the droid into a suicide bomber."

Carth nodded at her resourcefulness and motioned to the escape pods. "We're the only two left, we need to hurry before the Sith pick this ship apart! We can hide on the planet below!"

Seeing no other options, Keira reluctantly agreed. "Okay, but once we settle down on the planet we need to reassess the situation." As much as she hated the Sith, she didn't want to follow the Republic blindly and do more than she had to.

"Okay, deal. But get in the escape pod," the ship rattled from the turbolaser fire of the _Leviathan_. "Now!"

They hopped into the last escape pod. Carth immediately pushed the eject button as Keira gingerly tried to buckle herself down without agitating her wound.

"Don't worry," assured Carth as he too buckled himself into his seat. "These restraints should keep us from getting too roughed up when we land."

As the escape pod plummeted at a breakneck speed, it was shaken by some stray turbolaser fire. The ensuing turbulence caused one of Keira's straps to break. _Cheap Republic manufacturing! _thought Keira.

"You were saying?" she asked Carth, knowing that she was bound to get 'a little roughed up' now that half of her body was free to move around the pod.

"You really don't have to worry," Carth said half heartedly as he saw the surface of the planet approaching. "But you might want to grab onto something!" he said at the last second, as the pod made impact with the surface. They rattled side to side, and at one point Carth was sure they had flipped upside down. The hellacious ride ended after what seemed like an eternity, and Carth had to use all of his strength to kick open the hatch of the pod.

The dim street lights of the Upper City of Taris poured into the escape pod. It was then that Carth noticed that Keira was draped awkwardly over her seat in the escape pod. As he went back down to pick her up, he noticed that a small river of blood was leaking from Keira's head, in addition to a black eye and her reopened stomach wound. He carefully lifted her out of the pod and scurried down a darkened alleyway as the first curious residents began to comb over the damaged escape pod.

_For such a petite woman, _thought Carth, _she is sure heavy!_ He had peaked into the third apartment complex, hoping that there would be a spare room available. A green Twi'lek noticed him looking around and decided to approach him.

"_Hello human, I am Larrim," _he introduced. _"You seem to be looking for something. Could it be that you would like to purchase a state of the art energy shield?" _Larrim inquired.

"Erm, no thank you," avoided Carth, trying to hide the limp body he was carrying. "But do you know if there are any vacant apartments here?"

"_I could tell you, human, for a price of course," _offered the greedy Twi'lek.

Carth sighed. Taris was one of _these_ kinds of planets. "Okay, here's fifty credits, now where is it?"

"_Please follow me down the hall, human," _guided Larrim.

When at last Carth managed to get rid of Larrim, he carefully placed Keira on the bed. She was looking dangerously pale and began to thrash around in her sleep. _At least she's still alive,_ reasoned Carth. He procured his only advanced medpac and began to tend to her wounds.


	2. Taris Part 1

**Disclaimer: **In no way could I possibly own the awesomeness that is Star Wars, KOTOR, or anything vaguely related to them in any way. I simply write this to entertain myself and hopefully other fans of the game.

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait, but in between the summer travels of my betas and myself and the amount of time it actually takes to write chapters of this length, it happens. Don't worry though, I am fully dedicated to this story! FYI, Taris will probably have two or three more chapters.

* * *

><p><em>Her vision was clouded with dark mist, with no end in sight. The sound clashing of lightsabers and bursting of blaster fire in the distance was accompanied by wailing klaxons in the background. Suddenly, the mist cleared, revealing a determined young woman with twin brunette pigtails and a tan body suit. 'Bastila,' Keira mentally noted. Bastila wielded a single yellow blade, holding it expertly in front of her body in defense. A Dark Jedi wearing the customary gray robes and black hood slashed at her with his own single blood red saber. The two exchanged blows and parries for a few moments before Bastila forced the Dark Jedi back with her brute force. She slashed out at him, watching the body tumble to the ground before turning her attention elsewhere. Keira tried to get a better look at what was going on, but the dark mist began to roll back in, and her head felt like it was about to implode…<em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Abandoned Apartment; Upper City North; Taris <strong>_

Keira bolted up in the bed, beads of sweat forming on her face. She grimaced slightly and clutched her now well bandaged side, remembering the vibroblade wound she had sustained while fighting on the _Endar Spire_. Glancing around, she realized she was sitting in the only bed in a not completely run down, but obviously abandoned, apartment. Asleep in the only chair in the room was a man in a tacky orange flight jacket, brown hair, and a little stubble. _Captain Carth Onasi, _remembered Keira. She tried to carefully pull herself out of bed, but to no avail, crying out slightly at the pain her wound was giving her. The noise roused Carth from his sleep, who nearly fell out of his seat seeing his charge awake and moving. He rushed over to the side of the bed and helped to prop Keira up soundly and comfortably against the head of the bed/wall.

"It's good to see you up instead of thrashing around in your sleep," said Carth, as he pulled his seat to the bedside. "You must have been having one hell of a nightmare or something. I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever wake up from it. One minute you'd be lying there all peacefully, and the next I would have had to practically hold you onto the bed. When I went out to scrounge for supplies, I came back and found you on the floor!" joked Carth.

"Well, Captain Onasi, I guess I owe you my life," grudgingly conceded Keira. She hated to rely on others to get her out of sticky situations, but this man had done just that.

"Save your thanks, Ms. Trinidad, I've never abandoned anyone while on a mission, and I'm not about to start now. And you can drop the formalities, by the way. Since we're stuck together on this planet, you can just call me Carth," said Carth.

"Well, if we're dropping formalities, then you can just call me Keira. And what's this you say about being stuck together? What frickin' planet are we on, anyway?" asked the completely disoriented Keira.

"Oh yeah, you've been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past few days, so I guess you wouldn't know what's going on," realized Carth.

"No shit, Carth," grouchily replied Keira. She didn't normally have a lot of patience, and being talked to by Captain Obvious wasn't helping.

Ignoring Keira's comment, Carth began explaining. "Let me start from the beginning. Our escape pod landed on the planet of Taris. Taris is divided into three sections, the Upper City, which is where we are now, the Lower City, and the Under City. The quality of life pretty much gets worse as you get lower. We were lucky enough to crash in the Upper City, which is the safest of the three levels to land. You were pretty banged up from the crash, probably because of that faulty strap, but luckily I made it out unscathed. I dragged you out of the pod and hid us before the authorities could get to the pod, and managed to find this abandoned apartment. While you were out cold, I did some scouting around, and discovered that the Sith, who have been here for a while now, have placed Taris under martial law. They've also imposed a planet-wide quarantine, so no ships are allowed in or out of Taris. The Republic won't be able to rescue us, so we're pretty much left to fend for ourselves. And, to top it all off, Bastila is nowhere to be found, meaning that her escape pod is probably one of the few that crashed into the Under City," summarized Carth.

Keira rubbed her temples. She really felt like she needed a drink or something to keep her from going insane from this bleak news. Seeing her distress, Carth reassured her, "Don't worry, I've been in worse spots."

"So have I, but I wasn't feeling as shitty as I do now," she said. "Is there anything around here a girl can drink?" Carth sighed, getting up and procuring a bottle of Tarisian ale.

"This stuff is pretty cheap, probably because it's local. But be careful, it has a big kick," he warned, handing her the bottle. She took a deep, satisfied swig, and listened to Carth talk more.

"I saw on your service records that you understand a remarkable number of alien languages. That's pretty rare in a raw recruit," complimented Carth.

"Well, technically, I'm not a 'raw recruit,'" corrected Keira. "I only came aboard the _Spire_ because the Jedi wouldn't stop badgering me until I agreed to come. It takes a lot to pull me out of retirement, you know!"

"Retirement?" asked a baffled Carth, looking at the woman seated before him. She looked like she was in her late 20s, early 30s max. "Aren't you a little young for retirement?"

"I was, no, still am," corrected Keira, "one of the greatest scouts in the galaxy. I've been on almost every planet within Republic space, and almost all of the ones in the Outer Rim, which is why the Jedi wanted me so badly for this mission." Her beaming face suddenly contorted, making her look away quickly. When she turned back to face Carth, she wore a small, sad smile. "But, I wanted out of the scouting business a few years ago, and had enough credits to make life comfortable for myself. And no, I don't want to talk about why I quit right now," cut off Keira, noticing Carth's mouth open again while she was talking. Instead, she gazed blankly beyond him. Trying to redirect the conversation back to their current situation, Carth started speaking again.

"Since there's no way that we or the Republic can punch through the Sith blockade, we need to go and find Bastila. She's probably the only one who can help us get off this backwater planet alive," planned Carth.

"Bastila? She's a Jedi, can't she take care of herself?" selfishly asked Keira. "So, she might be in the Under City, but what's the worst that can get her there? She has her lightsaber, doesn't she?"

"I know that she was on the strike team that took down Darth Revan, and can wield the Battle Meditation that's been keeping the Republic war effort alive, but that doesn't mean she's invincible!" said Carth. "For all we know she could have been banged up like you were after her escape pod crashed, and unlike you, she's all alone in the Under City to fend for herself! We can't just leave her there!"

"That's following the assumption that she's still alive," pointed out Keira as she emptied the bottle.

"Okay, well, I don't know if Bastila's alive," conceded Carth, "But I'd rather operate under the assumption that she is. Though she may be incapacitated right now, she has an indispensable command of the Force. If we survived the crash landing, I'm willing to bet both our lives that she did too."

"Whoa, there, Carth. You have every right to hope that she's still alive, but in no uncertain terms are you allowed to bet my life," warned Keira.

"Calm down, it's a figure of speech! But seriously, what's the alternative if she's dead? Malak and the Sith will overrun the galaxy and we'll have to spend the rest of our lives in hiding on this decaying chunk of space rock. So I'd rather work under the scenario that Bastila is still alive," said Carth.

"Okay, you do have a point there," agreed Keira. "What do you suggest we do then, Mr. Assumption Maker?"

Carth rolled his eyes. "Well, Bastila will probably have legions of Sith looking for her, including Dark Jedi. However, no one is going to be looking around for a couple of soldiers, or a soldier and a scout," quickly corrected Carth as Keira opened her mouth, "like us, so we shouldn't have too much trouble getting around Taris, a luxury Bastila sure won't have."

"Yeah, just her overall appearance screams 'prissy Jedi princess!'" said Keira. "But, if it means getting off of this rock, I guess I'll help you find her. And besides, since her people did originally bring me out of retirement, I should probably show some employer loyalty," she hazarded. "Do you have any idea where to start looking?"

"Well, since Bastila's escape pod probably crashed in the Under City, that would be a good place to start. But, you need Sith authorization to get down there, so we're going to have to find a way around that," suggested Carth.

"Well, I'd like to see for myself what kind of hopeless situation we're in, so let's get a move on!" announced Keira.

"Hey, you were the one unconscious for three days!" playfully argued Carth. "But, you might want to put your armor back on, since I had to redress your wound a few times." Carth blushed. "Uh… all of your stuff is in the footlocker by the workbench," he said, pointing across the room.

Realizing that she was once again in her underwear in front of a male Republic soldier, Keira sighed, and got up to redress. "I hope that's all you did," she called as she made her way to the refresher. "Though, I've been in worse spots," she quoted. She flashed back to that time in the cantina at Nar Shadaa when she had agreed to play strip-Pazaak, and grimaced.

"I don't want to know!" declared Carth, raising his arms in the air, even though she couldn't see him anymore. "I bet it has something to do with some sketchy cantina." Little did he know how right he was.

* * *

><p>Keira was pleasantly surprised at the wealth their adopted apartment complex hid in its rooms. In addition to the locks being cheap enough that Keira could easily pick them, which was a feat in itself Keira was inept at picking even the simplest of locks, each apartment had an occupant who was all too willing to give them the meager supplies stored in their personal footlockers. Carth, however, was not as thrilled.<p>

"I cannot believe you are robbing the poor locals of this planet of their basic supplies!" spat Carth, scowling at the medpacs, parts, computer spikes, and credits that Keira was pocketing. "We _shouldn't _be drawing attention to ourselves."

Keira shrugged as she finished counting the credits she had picked up from a cowering Ithorian's bag. "Well, if they are willing to just let us have them, then I don't see the problem with it," reasoned Keira as they made their way to the last apartment in the building. Seeing Carth bristle at her seeming lack of morals, Keira told him seriously, "Look, we are on a mission to escape this blockaded, quarantined planet with a wanted Jedi. These people that we're taking from really aren't planning on utilizing their resources, and we need every bit we can get. So as long as they don't put up a reasonable fight for their stuff, I'm taking it." And with that, she opened the door to the apartment, revealing a pale-skinned woman of medium build with short brunette hair wielding a vibroblade.

"Wow, I really wasn't expecting that sort of welcome, with all of the other quivering residents here!" cheerily announced Keira as she stepped into the apartment.

"Get back!" ordered the woman, brandishing her vibroblade threateningly towards them. "Who are you to come busting in here like you own the place? Come any closer and you'll end up like that sewer rat Holdan!"

"Sorry, we were just a little lost- " started to apologize Carth, when Keira stepped in, curious.

"Who is this 'Holdan' and what did you do to him that should make us think twice?" asked the scout.

Seeing the woman start to raise her blade, she added, "Don't worry, we aren't here to rob or kill you. We're just a couple of travelers trying to salvage enough supplies to live off of while we wait out this quarantine."

Lowering her blade and looking them over suspiciously, the woman answered. "Holdan is just another greedy pig who has taken to working for the Exchange, in this case Davik, who thought he could get his way with any woman on Taris just because he's hired muscle. I taught him a thing or two about women's rights with my vibroblade and now I'm holed up here with a nice large price on my head."

Keira twirled her vibrosword carelessly while she voiced her thoughts. "So, the way I see it, there are a few ways for us to proceed," she paused, searching the face of the other armed woman. "What did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't," curtly replied the woman, "but my name is Dia."

"Yes, so 'Dia', we have a few ways to go about this. The first one is that my companion," Keira tilted her head towards Carth, "and I kill you here and collect the bounty on your head. The second," she said quickly as Dia tightened her grip on her vibroblade, "is that I talk to Holdan for you so that you can walk the streets again without fearing for bounty hunters. You see," explained Keira to the two dumbfounded people in the room, "I am a staunch supporter of women's rights. I hate men who think that women are their property, and I want to strangle the bastards that punish women for their own stupidity." The other two stepped back at the sudden intensity in Keira's last few words.

"You'd really talk to Holdan for me? I don't know if he'd listen to another woman though," warned Dia. "But if you want to try, he's probably lurking in Javyar's Cantina in the Lower City."

"Maybe a man might be able to persuade him," reasoned Carth, feeling left out of the conversation.

"Maybe," agreed Keira, who's eye caught a half open bag on the floor. "However, our help isn't free. We'll talk Holdan into taking the bounty off, but you need to give us all the supplies in that bag first."

Carth seemed to bristle at the idea of taking from a desperate woman, but Dia shrugged.

"Sure, I can always buy some more when I can walk free again. It's not like I'm short on credits, just connections," she said, holding out her bag to the duo.

"Thank you for your cooperation," grinned Keira as she scooped the medpacs and computer spikes out of the bag. "We'll send you word when we get the bounty lifted. Oh, and by the way, how do you get to the Lower City?" inquired Keira, remembering that she had no knowledge of the geography of the planet she was marooned on.

"Unless you have authorization by the Sith, no one can use the elevators. However, the guard at the elevator to the Lower City is pretty lax, and only checks appearances. The guards that got in the elevator before us when I went on that dreadful date with Holdan didn't even have to flash any badges when they went in," informed Dia eagerly, hoping that the information would accelerate the time until her freedom.

"Thanks again," said Carth, as he left Dia's apartment. He walked straight into Keira's upraised gloved hand, stopping him in his tracks. Opening his mouth to protest, the surprisingly gentle hand moved and covered his mouth, indicating quiet. Sulking, Carth looked to see what was so important, and suddenly stiffened.

A few meters from the door stood two silver assault droids and a Sith officer in an immaculate gray uniform toting a large blaster rifle. Before them stood two annoyed looking Duros who had been purchasing energy shields from Larrim.

"Alright you alien scum!" roared the officer with the posh English accent that all the Sith seemed to have. "Drop the credits and the energy shields! They are now property of the Sith Empire!" ordered the Sith.

"_This is just ridiculous!" _muttered one of the Duros, who stuffed his credits back into his red jumpsuit.

"I said to _drop_ the credits, alien pig! You know the drill," commanded the Sith, pompously waving his blaster rifle at the Duros.

"_How could I forget? There was a patrol here yesterday, and they already took anything of value!" _cried the Duros.

In a flash the Sith's previously loitering weapon was trained on the Duros, but the officer had to clumsily squeeze off five shots in order to kill the offender. Smirking at the charred body, the Sith turned to only remaining alien in the room, another Duros in a green jumpsuit.

"That's how we Sith deal with stupid, smart-mouthed aliens! Now get up against that wall before I lose my temper again! And where did that green Twi'lek go?" threateningly asked the officer.

Carth continuously gripped and ungripped his hands around his trusty blasters, unsure if he should intervene or not. Keira made the decision for him, as she nimbly darted forward towards the nearest assault droid, silently unsheathing her vibrosword and expertly detaching its head from its chassis before its sensors had even picked her up.

"Humans hiding out with aliens?" exclaimed the Sith officer as he turned to see who had wrecked his droid. "They must be Republic fugitives from that space battle," he thought aloud. "Get them!" he ordered the remaining assault droid.

Before any of the remaining Sith could attack, Carth hit the droid in the head with a single deadly blast while Keira kicked the blaster rifle out of the soldier's hands and ran him through with her vibrosword. The two hit the ground within seconds, neither having a chance of survival. Keira frowned with distaste as the Sith's blood flowed around her boots while mingling with the droids' burnt circuitry.

"Hey janitor," she called to the elderly man down the hall. "There's another mess over here for you to clean up!"

"_Poor Ixgil," _the other Duros lamented, staring down at his friend's fallen corpse. "_He shouldn't have talked back to that Sith like that. Thankfully you were here to intervene, human._"

"_If it's one thing I can't stand, it's abuse of power," _replied Keira in Durese. "_But it your deceased friend said that these patrols come through here regularly. Won't someone back here to look for this Hutt-slug?" _asked Keira, kicking the face of the Sith officer with contempt.

"_Do not worry yourself with that," _assured the Duros. "_I can hide him and the droids with the rest of the trash to be incinerated. The Rodian who does it won't even bat a figurative eyelash!" _

Keira nodded in assent, staring at the torn and bloody uniform of the Sith officer. Turning to Carth she said, "Too bad his uniform is in no shape to use as a disguise. I don't think it'll be the easiest task to get two intact Sith uniforms."

"I'll have to agree with you there," said Carth, sliding his blasters back into their holsters. "Well, I guess we should head out and explore the rest of the Upper City, and keep an eye out for a few extra uniforms," he suggested as he emptied the contents of the Sith's backpack.

"Hey, I thought rummaging through remains was beneath you," joked Keira. Her mood turned a little more serious, if not pouty, when she stamped a little with her boots. "We'll have to make another trip back to our apartment. I've got blood all over my boots, and besides the fact that I pride myself on my personal hygiene, it would look a little suspicious if I tracked bloody footprints everywhere we went."

"Yeah, I guess leaving a bloody trail behind us wouldn't exactly be the best idea," agreed Carth, starting to warm up to Keira's logic.

As they walked back towards the apartment door, Keira felt a sudden wave of foreboding wash through her. Brushing it off as quickly as it came, she groaned audibly at the sight that stood before her. The lock on their apartment door was undone and the door left open. Rummaging through their minimal back up supplies was none other than Larrim, who was tossing medpacs and security tunnelers into a large beige sack beside him. Keira drew her sword to strike, but Carth had already drawn his blasters and hit the green Twi'lek two times squarely in the back, instantly killing him. As they took inventory of their supplies and added the other filched items to their stock, Keira commented.

"Carth, I have to admit, I really didn't think you had it in you. Normally I'm the one who has to start the fighting!" she teased.

"If it's one thing I despise, it's betrayal," Carth replied with all seriousness. "And that green Twi'lek was the one who led me to this apartment when you were under. Sure, I didn't buy the energy shield he was trying to sell me, but I didn't think he would stoop so low as to come back in here while we were gone to steal our stuff!" rambled Carth.

"Well, this is easily solved," reasoned Keira. "Just change the code on the door. I doubt anyone else knew the code, with the only one being dead," she nonchalantly motioned to the corpse of Larrim. "So you throw that sewer slime's body out the window, and I'll take care of the lock!"

Carth's mouth hung open so low that Keira thought she could have fit her arm down his throat a few times without a problem. "What? I doubt that Duros would be willing to someone else for us. It'll be a long drop to the Lower or Under City, and I don't think anyone will come looking for him," explained Keira as though she was suggesting a new route to work.

Not being able to think of a suitable retort, Carth did as he was told. After Keira finished washing her boots, they went off into the Upper City.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Cantina; Upper City North; Taris<strong>_

"Really, this was sort of predictable," sighed Carth as he and Keira leaned against the bar waiting for their drinks.

"Cantinas are one of the best places to conduct reconnaissance on a foreign planet," said Keira learnedly. "We'll meet at least one representative of every racial and social group on this planet, and they'll all naturally group together with people similar to them, making the surveying easy."

"I guess," he conceded. "And we do need to get some credits to spend too," he suggested, thinking ahead about what armor, weapons, and other supplies they were going to need in a place like the Under City. The whole planet didn't appeal much to Carth.

Truth be told, the Upper City Cantina (it didn't have any other, flashier name) wasn't _too_ bad. It just wasn't spectacular in any way and housed some of the snobbiest people Carth and Keira had ever met. The same thought echoed through their minds after some time in the city: _Just how many people could comment on your clothes in the same stuck-up manner in the same vicinity? _It wasn't just the people in the cantina either, people on the street started to avoid them just by the clothes they were wearing, except for the Sith, who just kept walking like they owned the place, which they sort of did. The most annoying thing was, though, that every shop they walked into only carried armor. How were they supposed to blend into the local population when Tarisian clothing was out of stock in every shop on the planet? Even Keira had joked that in a time of crisis and occupation it seemed like the Tarisians stocked up on clothes instead of food and weapons.

"The drinks are here," announced Keira with an undertone of relief. Carth just shook his head as he took a sip of his Corellian ale.

"Maybe we should get going on making some credits," Carth suggested, always one to stay focused on the task at hand. "There was a Pazaak player that looked like he had a lot of credits on him near the entrance."

"Okay," agreed Keira distractedly as she downed the last of her juma juice. "That leaves me with fighting in the dueling ring!"

"No, no, no," disagreed Carth hurriedly. "You can't go out dueling intoxicated! And even if you weren't, dueling is dangerous! I won't let you risk your life just for some credits, and besides, our covers may get blown from all of the press coverage."

"But if I wore the hood on my cloak, the press wouldn't be a problem," pointed out Keira.

"And if your opponent is actually decent and blows your hood back?" skeptically replied Carth.

"Fine, I'll just keep talking to the locals that will give me the light of day," said Keira with an undertone of defeat.

Carth looked over Keira's shoulder. "Well, it looks like you have a line of them waiting behind you."

"Don't worry about me," she assured Carth when she saw the concerned look on his face. "I can handle myself around these cantina rats."

"Yeah, I guess it takes one to know one," snidely remarked Carth. Continuing as Keira made a face at him he said, "And at least you won't have to spend all of our precious credits on drinks!"

"That's the spirit!" merrily exclaimed Keira as Carth made his way to the Pazaak player Niklos.

_**Pazaak Room of the Upper City Cantina; Upper City North; Taris **_

Grimacing as he arranged his side deck, Carth began to wonder if he would actually be able to beat Niklos with the deck he had just purchased from the retired player across the room. _Not even any subtraction cards? _Carth thought with disdain. Glancing up at the cocky Niklos, Carth put down his wager.

"Two hundred credits?" sputtered the seasoned gambler with disbelief. Returning back to his narcissistic self he declared, "I will enjoy relieving you of your purse!"

"You'll eat those words, Niklos," shot back Carth. "Let's play."

It was a close game, much too close for Carth's liking. Carth had won three matches to two, though the Republic pilot blamed the slim margin to his limited side deck. However, he was enjoying the spectacle before him, with Niklos red in the face and muttering to himself. All of his fan girls had either left completely or were starting to drift to one of the different rooms of the cantina, just away from their once revered Pazaak champion.

"Again, off-worlder," spat out Niklos. "Double or nothing."

Carth gave him a dazzling smile of both generosity and deception. "Okay, if you insist."

It seemed like the first game was just a warm-up for Carth, as he beat Niklos again 3-1. When asked for another rematch, Carth swept the stuck-up Tarisian 3-0, leaving the table 3500 credits richer as he chuckled to himself. He always liked putting rich snobs in their place. With no other opponents left in the cantina, Carth returned to a now-empty bar.

"Excuse me, sir," Carth asked the bartender. "Where did the raven-haired woman I was with earlier go?"

"You mean the woman that brought half of the cantina's male population here and drained all of my juma juice _and_ Corellian fire whiskey?" clarified the middle aged man.

With raised eyebrows, Carth answered, "Yeah, her. Did you see where she wandered off to, and catch how intoxicated she was?"

"I won't ever forget her," replied the bartender with awe. "She drank two bottles of juma juice and a bottle of Corellian fire whiskey without even batting an eyelash. No sir, she seemed only a little tipsy when she left the bar, and headed to the dueling ring. I can only hope she just went to place a bet, but man I would give to see her in a fight."

_Uh-oh_, thought Carth, his eyes darting across the cantina to the entrance of the dueling ring. He bolted from the bar and headed straight to one of arena's view screens, almost pounding his head against the screen at the sight that awaited him.

Keira was locking blades with a heartless looking blonde woman, but the odds did not look like they were on Keira's side for once. Peering over to one of the other view screen spectators he asked, "Hey, what do you know about that new duelist fighting the blonde woman now?"

The other spectator didn't even shift his gaze from his screen. "You are clearly an off-worlder if you don't know the names of all of the duelists. The blonde girl is Ice, and she's only lost to Twitch, the reigning champion of the dueling ring. The other woman goes by the name the Mysterious Stranger, and she sure is mysterious! I mean, she just started dueling today, and she's already beaten Dead-Eye, Gerlon, and Ice! All in a row! Almost everyone's placing their bets on her, but I'm starting to regret it now, she doesn't look like she's going to be able to hold out against Marl. Maybe she should've waited a day before challenging her."

Carth looked back at his own screen. The other spectator was right, Keira didn't look like she could go much longer. She was holding her side with the still mending rib injury like everything inside of her was going to fall out, and Carth could also spot that she was favoring her right ankle as well as some new cuts of varying depths scattered across her body. _Why is she doing this? _wondered Carth. _I told her not to fight in the dueling ring! The least she could have done is waited this last fight out… _He was shaken from his reverie as he gasped at the latest wound that Keira sustained, a deep cut in the thigh.

"Someone get her out of that arena! She won't make it if she isn't taken to a hospital now!" Carth called out to nobody in particular, slightly hysteric.

"Calm down, you simpleton!" brushed off the neighboring spectator. "Don't you know that the arena is equipped with special energy shields? Sure the blasters and vibroblades will hurt there, but they won't kill."

"Vibroblades and blasters, and no one ever gets killed? Why do I get a feeling you're taking me out for a ride?" Carth asked skeptically, momentarily distracted.

"Shut up! The match is just getting juicy!" silenced the spectator.

Turning back to the screen, Carth saw Keira take another blow, this time to the left arm, her sword arm. But instead of collapsing and surrendering, Keira surprised the entire audience, including Carth, by grabbing Ice with her less wounded arm, drawing her closer, and then kicking her squarely in the chest with Marl's vibroblade still lodged in her arm. With her opponent gasping for breath on the floor, Keira released the blade from her arm and began to swing wildly at her opponent until the medics rushed onto the field and the match was declared over. Marl was lucky to have escaped with all of his face. In the distraction, Keira slipped away from the view of the cameras, and reappeared in the duelist's lounge, heavily injured. Ignoring the cheering fans and Carth for the time being, she limped over to the Hutt in charge of placing bets and organizing duels.

"Alright, I beat Marl," she told the Hutt tiredly. "Just give me my cut."

"_Oh, Mysterious Stranger, you never fail to disappoint!" _chortled the Hutt. "_Here are the credits I promised. Five hundred. If you can beat Twitch, not only will you receive a thousand credits, but you'll also be crowned champion of the dueling circuit here on Taris." _

"I'll be back soon," promised Keira, hobbling her way towards Carth. He met her half way, and did as much as he could to support her.

"What were you thinking? You could've have gotten yourself killed in there! You might be dead soon if we don't get you looked at!" scolded Carth.

"Hey, I needed to get us some credits too, and there was no one useful left to talk to at the bar," wheezed Keira.

"We'll discuss this later," vowed Carth. "Now, though, we need to get you some medical attention. And I mean professional medical attention, by the look of those wounds. There's a medical facility down the street, come on," directed Carth, guiding Keira out of the cantina. Keira had no objections, mainly because she had passed out.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Medical Facility; Upper City North; Taris <strong>_

Zelka Forn, a middle-aged, balding, doctor, slowly injected kolto into Keira's rib cage. Above, her left arm was already expertly stitched up, and the ankle put into a splint. Carth paced impatiently on the opposite side of the operating table, taking nervous glances at his unconscious comrade every few seconds. Another man, a slimy fellow named Gurney who claimed to be the assistant first-aider, ignored the spectacle altogether, and continued to type away on his computer console like he had since Carth had jogged inside with Keira slung across his back.

"This is as much as I can do for her here," announced Zelka as he disposed of the syringe. "With your permission, though, I would like to keep her in a kolto tank overnight to make sure she heals properly."

Carth hesitated to answer for a few seconds, weighing the urgency of the mission to rescue Bastila against Keira's health. He decided, though, that without Keira at 100%, they would never get to Bastila in time. However, just as he was about to respond, Keira stirred atop the table.

"How is she awake already?" exclaimed Zelka, alarmed. "I shot her up with enough sedatives to keep an albino kath hound docile!"

"Ugh…" groaned Keira, struggling to sit up. Carth rushed over, gently taking her shoulders to keep her lying down.

"Hey, hey, Keira, it's me, Carth," he said soothingly in an attempt to calm her.

"I… I know who you are, Carth," said Keira groggily, though Carth didn't know how she managed the edge of biting sarcasm that came with it. "We… we can't stay here. I can't stay here overnight…" she mumbled almost under her breath.

"Keira, you're just a little disoriented," tried to reason Carth. "But you have to stay here. You're way too injured to go back out there!" Deciding to give the couple some privacy, Zelka moved back towards the front of the store and began taking inventory of his meager supplies.

"Besides the dueling," began Keira, regaining some lucidity and powers of speech, "I met an interesting fellow at the bar. I found a way to get us some," she glanced at Zelka, "um, some new uniforms for work," she hinted rather lamely. However, Zelka wasn't the smartest pharmacist/first aider, so he didn't notice the blatantly obvious plan to get something that _wasn't _a work uniform.

"Great!" said Carth, happy that even now some progress was being made on their quest. "Just give me the directions and I'll go get the uniforms while you recover."

"_You_ cannot be the one to get these uniforms, Carth. The..." Keira paused, trying to quickly come up with some way to reveal her plan stealthily but obviously enough so that Carth would get it. "The drycleaner is interested in more than just some business. He wants to see the customer face to face," she tried to hint. By the look on Carth's face, Keira's message was less than decipherable. Frustrated, she continued to struggle to get up, this time successfully able to lean upright against the back storeroom door. As she painfully pushed herself to stand without support, the lock on the door beeped loudly ACCESS DENIED.

"Hey, what are you two doing back there!" cried Zelka, racing back to the door while glancing at the front entrance frantically. "That room is off-limits! Medical personnel only!"

Pretending that she hadn't accidentally triggered the alarm on the door, Keira smoothly assured the overworked doctor. "Don't worry, Zelka, you can trust us with whatever's behind this door." Ignoring Zelka's protests, she nodded to Carth to pick the lock. When he stubbornly refused to, she made a mental note to talk some sense into him later and bashed the lock off with her uninjured arm. What they found shocked even Keira. The limp bodies of Republic soldiers from the _Spire _were the last thing either of the survivors was expecting. Though Keira had distanced herself from almost everyone on the ship, Carth rushed up to one of the kolto tanks containing a middle-aged but well-toned man.

"Captain Nozwick…" murmured Carth, putting his hand up to the glass.

"Wait, you know these people?" exclaimed Zelka. The doctor was smart enough to close the door behind him before continuing. "Then that means you are also friends of the Republic!"

"Yes, we were stationed with these soldiers on the _Endar Spire_," said Carth. "Can… can you tell me how you came to care for them?"

Zelka smiled kindly. "Ever since the space battle overhead, people have been secretly bringing these soldiers. They knew that I would care for noble soldiers of the Republic. However, they were all already in bad shape when I got them. The only thing I can do now is keep them comfortable for their last few days."

"Well, for that you have our thanks," said Keira from the far corner of the room, surprising the men. "No one deserves to be left to die like that."

"No they do not, Miss," agreed Zelka.

"Oh, now that we all know we favor the Republic cause, I can tell you that plan Carth!" remembered Keira. "I met a Sith soldier in the cantina, and he and his buddies are having a party tonight in some apartment in Upper City South. He doesn't seem like the responsible type, and I figured we could get some of their uniforms while they're partying."

"A party? That's your plan to get into the Lower City?" asked Carth with disbelief.

"Well, the guy was a coreslime. If the rest of his friends are all like that, getting their uniforms will be easy! And it's not like they can tell their superiors that they lost their uniforms at a wild party," reasoned Keira.

"Fine, but I'm coming with you," insisted Carth. "You can't go to a Sith party all by yourself."

"No, they'll get suspicious if I bring you," refused Keira. "While I get the uniforms, you can just search the other apartments for supplies like our complex."

"You know what, let's just drop the subject till we get there," said Carth, not willing to give up but not seeing any openings in the argument either.

"Why do you two need to get to the Lower City anyway?" asked Zelka.

"Well, actually we need to get to the Under City to search a few of the Republic escape pods," answered Carth. "But we figured the Lower City is a good start."

"Well, if you find a rakghoul serum, could you please bring it to me?" pleaded Zelka.

Keira nodded knowingly. "The Sith have the serum to prevent those horrible mutations, but they won't share it?"

"How did you know?" asked the amazed Zelka.

"Typical Sith," Carth and Keira said in unison.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Apartment Building; Upper City South; Taris<strong>_

Carth had to admit, Keira cleaned up nicely. Though she was only wearing a military suit, combat pants, and her signature cloak, she managed to wear it as though she was in cocktail dress. No evidence of her dueling marathon was visible, though her occasional grimace said otherwise. The loud music pulsed from the Sith apartment, and Carth was still reluctant to let Keira go into that snake's nest alone.

"At least let me come with you!" repeated Carth. "You can do all the talking, it's just that I don't trust those kath hounds."

"Carth, from what I can tell, and trust me, I'm good at reading people, you're just not a social person," stated Keira matter-of-factly, patting Carth on the shoulder. "You would blow our cover in an instant." Leaving no room for argument, she thrust a bag into Carth's hands. "Just gather supplies and wait for me outside the complex. I'll be in and out in two hours tops."

Not waiting for a response, she turned around and entered the party.

_****2 Hours Later****_

Carth twitched impatiently outside of the apartment complex, glancing at his watch. It had been two hours, and Keira hadn't showed up yet. Gripping the bag, he switched its weight to his opposite shoulder. The apartments in the southern part of the city had proved to be more bountiful, having more credits, medpacs, and arms than their own apartment complex. Better yet, the sniveling wannabe nobles let him take everything without putting up a fight. Keira was right, they needed the supplies more than the Tarisians who hoarded them. The door behind him suddenly slid open, and a stumbling Keira emerged with two bundles of armor clutched to her stomach. Holding her shoulder to steady her, Carth noticed something amiss.

"Hey… I… I got the uniforms…" slurred Keira. "But I decided to get… decided to get the armor instead of the gray ones so that our faces would be covered…"

"Uh, great," congratulated Carth halfheartedly. "What's up with you? I've seen you drink double your weight in Tarisian ale, so that can't be it."

"Let's start walking… and then I'll tell you," insisted Keira, as she headed back towards the direction of their apartment.

Reluctantly, Carth followed, peppering her with questions. "It's not alcohol, Keira, so tell me what happened! Is it your wounds?"

Grinning, Keira replied, sobering up a little, "You _could _say that. The minute I walked into that hellhole of a party, the Sith were downing the Tarisian ale like water,-"

"Like you do," piped in Carth.

Giving him a scathing glare, Keira continued. "Yes, well, anyway, most of the Sith were already passing out from the alcohol. I figured, soon enough, the rest would pass out too and I could just snatch the uniforms and split. But, there were a few burly looking guys in the corner smoking, well, I don't know, some sort of spice, and they just wouldn't go down. I knew I wasn't in shape to fight all of them, so I joined in their smoking until they passed out. Did wonders for my pain too," revealed Keira. "Then I just took the uniforms and left."

Carth was beside himself. "You smoked _spice_ in order to get two Sith uniforms?"

"Yup," happily replied Keira.

Carth remained silent for a long time, until eventually saying, "Well, I can't say I agree with your methods, but at least your work paid off."

They continued to walk in silence for a few minutes until they heard a scuffle in a side alleyway. Curious, they decided to take a peek.

"Davik says you missed your last payment," drawled a tall human toting a blaster rifle.

"_Davik doesn't like you missing payments!" _growled an Aqualish.

"Here! I've got fifty credits right here! That's a down payment! That will buy me some time, won't it!" groveled an elderly human.

"Sorry, but you're out of chances, old man. It's all or nothing now. Davik can't have people not paying off their debts. It's bad business," informed the human with false regret.

"But I don't have that much! How can I pay Davik credits that I don't have!" tried to reason the old man.

"_Stop trying to be smart, human!" _warned the Aqualish. "_Davik wants to make an example of you. Come with us_."

"No! Help, somebody help! They're going to kill me!" desperately cried out the old man.

"I know that we're trying to keep a low profile, and you're not physically recovered yet, but can we just stand here and let them take that man?" whispered Carth to Keira, who now seemed perfectly sober and alert.

"Alright, I'll see what we can do," said Keira reluctantly. "Though, really, if he can't pay back his debts like a responsible sentient being, I don't think he deserves it." Waving her vibrosword at the two thugs, Keira yelled. "Hey you two, I think you need to pick on someone your own age!"

The two enforcers whirled around at the unexpected voice. Seeing only an injured woman waving a vibrosword, they relaxed.

"Hehe, looks like we get to make another example out of you!" laughed the human, spitting shots out of his blaster rifle wildly.

"Tarisians," reproached Keira as she ignored her pain to run over and knock the rifle out of the thug's hands. "All guns and violence until they actually have to kill someone." She slowly ran her sword from the puzzled thug's waist to his chin, sadistically taking pleasure in his slow death as Carth shot the other thug down.

Ignoring Keira, Carth rushed over to check on the old man. "Are you alright, sir?"

"Yes, yes, I'm okay thanks to you!" gratefully replied the old man.

"You're welco-" began Carth, as he was cut off by Keira.

"Why did you need that money anyway?" she inquired.

"Um, nothing you'd want to be bothered with, miss," assured the man.

"I think you should tell the truth," she threatened, dangerously pressing the tip of her vibrosword to the man's chin.

"Keira! Stop it! He's only an old man!" cried Carth.

"Carth, he's just some stranger we met in an alleyway. Don't you think he could be suspicious too?" reasoned Keira. Shifting her gaze back to the man, she continued her interrogation, slowly increasing the pressure of her sword against the man's flesh, "What were you doing with that money?"

"I—I needed the money for gambling," confessed the man. "I just thought that if I got lucky just once, that I'd be able to bribe the Sith into letting me leave the planet."

"Just what I thought," scoffed Keira. "Another greedy Tarisian." Still increasing the pressure of her sword, she began to draw the man's blood.

"Keira…" said Carth, not wanting to see what was coming next, but unable to look away. "Everyone has their gambling problems…"

"Yeah, well, they don't need to get others to rescue them when they get into money trouble," she shot back, looking down at the quivering man with disdain.

"Please, you don't have to do this," desperately pleaded the old man.

Keira held her blade in place, silently contemplating whether this man really did deserve to have his life taken away in that alleyway. Yes, he had used them to protect himself from the thugs, but it wasn't like he had premeditated it. In a time of need, Keira would have also hoped for someone to save her if she asked. However… she didn't plan on needing the help of a stranger in situations like these. Common thugs could easily be dispatched, and those that couldn't should never have gotten involved with them in the first place. It was one thing to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but to borrow money from a notorious crime lord was just being stupid.

"You didn't need to gamble," stated Keira with harsh finality as she thrust the blade through the man's head. Carth felt the bile rise in his throat as he watched Keira disgustedly pull her sword out of the man's head and wipe his entrails on his clothes.

"What was the point of that?" angrily asked Carth when he regained his composure, which wasn't until they had entered their apartment. "He wasn't going to hurt anyone!"

"He used us as his own personal bodyguards when he should've dealt with his problems by himself," coldly replied Keira.

"You have your drinking problem!" pointed out Carth.

"It's not a _problem,_ Carth, if it doesn't get in the way of anyone else," flung back Keira, upset at being put on the defensive.

"Well, maybe before you go around _killing_ people because of their flaws, you should deal with yours," spat Carth, moving to sleep on the makeshift bed on the ground.

Keira was silent, taken aback by Carth's harsh yet true words. However, he didn't seem in the mood to talk more about it, so she went to sleep, trying to heal all of her wounds.


End file.
